Party Crashers
by Settiai
Summary: They should have known their night off wouldn't go as planned.


"This is your fault!"

Tony blinked, running Clint's words through his head a few times before he turned toward him. "How on earth do you figure that?" he asked, frowning.

Clint glared at him. His face looked odd without his customary mask. He started to wave his arms around, stopping abruptly as energy beams flew over the upturned table they were crouched behind, almost singing his hands. "You're the one who made us all come to this stupid party!"

"Actually, Pepper's the one who made us come to the party, and it wasn't that bad until the supervillains crashed it," Janet said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. She crossed her arms, hovering in midair in between Clint and Tony. Frowning, she glanced back at forth between the two of them. "Why are you hiding back here instead of, I don't know, fighting back?"

"Maybe it's because my bow is back at the Mansion and I can't get close enough to fight hand-to-hand without getting vaporized," Clint shot back. He glared at Tony again, still apparently blaming him.

Well, two could play at that game. Tony glared back at him for a second before turning his attention toward Janet. "I've called for my armor," he said, gesturing at the watch-like device on his wrist. "I just have to wait for it to get here." He paused. "Because of the whole vaporization thing."

If anything, Clint's expression grew even darker. "Cheater," he muttered.

Janet rolled her eyes. "Bruce is already on his way, and he's supposed to be bringing everyone's weapons with him." She turned away from them, shaking her head. "You two just keep cowering here, and I'll take care of the energy beams so you can come out and help."

As she flew off, she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "men." Her tone didn't sound very positive.

Clint and Tony shared a bewildered look. "What just happened?" Tony asked, frowning.

"No idea," Clint replied, raising an eyebrow as Jan took out three of the energy weapons in less than five seconds, "but I think we may have just been insulted."

* * *

"What is it, Jane Foster?" Thor asked, tilted his head as she shoved her phone into her purse and stood up from the table.

"It looks like a couple of supervillains crashed Tony Stark's big gala tonight," she said, shooting him an apologetic smile. "They need everyone available to head in. Sorry."

Thor stood up as well, a frown on his face. "My teammates were going to be at Tony Stark's party."

Jane grabbed his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "Well then," she said, "it looks like both of us have places to be."

He nodded, a hint of sheepishness on his face. "Perhaps next time we will be able to finish a meal in peace."

"Perhaps," Jane said, smiling. Then she nodded in the direction of the hotel where the Stark party was taking place; it was easy to recognize because of the dozens of emergency vehicles heading that way. "Now go be an Avenger."

* * *

Steve grabbed another one of the silver trays off of the buffet table, trying not to cringe as most of the food on it hit the floor with a splat. Even after months in the future, it was to remind himself that the Depression hadn't just ended, that food wasn't the rare commodity that it had been during his teenage years. Well, not for everyone, at least.

"Captain, behind you!"

Without hesitating, Steve spun around, ducking as he moved. He let the tray fly, flinching a bit as it hit the armed henchmen coming up behind him directly in the chest. The woman let out a pained sound, her weapon dropping to the floor only a few seconds ahead of her.

Steve turned around, taking just a second to send T'Challa a quick nod of thanks before he grabbed another tray from the table. It wasn't his shield, but at least it was better than nothing.

T'Challa nodded back. Then he spun around, sending two of the henchmen flying with a rather impressive kick that neither of them had seen coming.

* * *

_You should let me out. I could get there faster._

"Yes, yes, I know," Bruce muttered as he ran down a side street that he vaguely remembered being a shortcut.

The streets were utter chaos, with most of New York City's elite trying to get away from the latest catastrophe that Stark's party had turned out to be and most of New York City's police, fire, and ambulance forces trying to get to it. He had given up on his cab ride halfway there, shoving some money into the driver's hand before diving out the door.

_Let. Me. Out._

Bruce gathered the pile of weapons and costumes he was holding tighter in his arms. "If I do, can you manage to get there without completely destroying everyone else's belongings?" he asked.

The Hulk didn't say anything.

"Well?" Bruce prompted.

There was a sound in his head that sounded almost like a disgruntled sigh. It was followed closely behind by a chuckle. _Yes_.

Bruce frowned, but he still nodded. "Fine," he said, "but if you mess up anything, you get to be the one who explains to the others why their weapons were destroyed on the way from the Mansion to the hotel."

* * *

Janet spun around at the sound of a groan and heavy thud behind her, and she couldn't hide her grin when she saw Hank standing there, out of costume but with a folding chair in his hands. One of the bad guys was on the floor at his feet, a gun resting on the floor an inch or so from the semi-unconscious man's right hand. Hank quickly kicked it farther away.

"My hero," Janet said, flying over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.

Hank's face turned an interesting shade of red. "You should watch out behind you better," he chided, his warning downplayed a bit by his blush.

Janet smiled at him. "Of course," she said innocently. Then she darted past him, blasting the man sneaking up on him directly in the face.

Hank at least had the good grace to look sheepish.

* * *

Tony flinched as Steve threw another plate at one of the bad guys. He'd ran out of metal trays a few minutes earlier, and he had since resorted to using things that were a little more . . .

There was a loud crash as the plate hit the villain directly in the head.

. . . breakable.

Shaking his head, Tony reached down and picked up one of the trays that Steve had thrown earlier. "Hey, Cap," he called out. Steve glanced his way. "Catch!"

Tony tossed the tray, grinning despite himself when Steve caught it effortless. Then Steve's eyes went wide. "Tony!"

Not stopping to think, Tony spun around, automatically throwing his hand up when he saw the fist heading toward his face. He stopped the punch, even if it was a bit awkward, and shoved the man trying to attack him back a foot or so.

Then Tony caught him directly in the face with a right hook that, he had to admit, impressed even himself.

There was a low whistle from behind him as Steve came up to his side. "Nice punch."

Tony grinned, turning toward Steve. Then he paused, grimacing a bit. "Actually, I think my hand might be broken now," he said, gingerly poking at it.

Steve chuckled.

Tony hissed as he poked a little harder than he had meant. "Um, I'm not kidding."

Steve's face fell. "Oh. That's not good."

* * *

Clint shot T'Challa a dirty look as one of the bad guys he'd been fighting for the last three minutes slumped to the floor. "I had everything under control," he said. He pointedly didn't reach up to touch his face, even though he could feel a slow trick of blood running down from his nose.

T'Challa raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

Still glaring at him, Clint gestured toward another villain, one who was struggling to her feet a few feet away. She was actually the one who had given him the bloody nose, not that Clint was going to admit that to anyone. "This one's mine, okay?"

T'Challa didn't say anything, though his mouth twitched slightly in what might have been a smile. He simply nodded and stepped away.

Clint turned to face his adversary head-on, grinning a bit as he clenched his fists. It had been _way_ too long since he'd had a decent fight.

There was a bright flash of light, followed by a loud boom. Clint shut his eyes automatically, blinking them wildly a few seconds later as he tried to focus on the dark-haired woman who had been just a few feet in front of him.

She was on the floor again. Unconscious.

Thor dropped down beside Clint, nodding at him. "I am sorry that I arrived late," he said. "Hopefully I have made up for my tardiness by banishing the villain who was readying herself to attack you."

Clint sighed, reaching up to touch his still-bleeding nose. "Swell," he said dryly. "Thanks."

Shaking his head, Thor walked over to the woman and knelt down. When he stood up a few seconds later, he was holding a gun in his hands. "Only a coward would make plans to use a weapon such as this on someone who was unarmed," he said, frowning.

Clint's throat suddenly felt dry. He hadn't even seen the gun. "Really, big guy," he said, his tone suddenly a lot more heartfelt, "thanks."

* * *

The Hulk crashed through the wall five seconds after the last of the bad guys had hit the floor, unconscious.

Everyone turned to stare at him. Then, the handful of party guests who hadn't already fled the scene, turned and ran for the door.

Scowling, the Hulk looked around. He dropped the pile of clothes and weapons he was holding on the ground, ignoring the flinches that he garnished from several of the other Avengers. "None for me?" he growled.

"Sorry, Hulk," Tony said, one of his hands held close to his chest. "I think that we took care of them all."

"It was a piece of cake," Janet said, growing back to her regular size a few feet away from the Hulk. He glared at her, and she shrugged. "You'd have been bored. I mean, we took care of them without weapons, costumes, or anything else."

Tony cleared his throat, gesturing with his head at the broken plates on the floor.

Steve reached up to rub the back of his head, a sheepish expression appearing on his face. "Sorry about that, by the way."

Janet sighed. "Okay, Cap threw plates at them," she amended. "That might count as a weapon." She paused. "Plus Hank had a chair."

Hank flushed a bit.

Rolling his eyes, the Hulk turned around. "All that trouble and I didn't get to hit anyone," he grumbled.

Clint snorted. "Trust me, I know how you feel."

The Hulk turned toward him, his mouth twisting into a grin.

Clint quickly stepped behind T'Challa, who snorted in amusement. "Hey, that wasn't an offer to use me as a punching bag!"

The Hulk stared at him for a few seconds before throwing his head back and laughing. After a moment or two, the others joined in.

"Everyone's a comedian," Clint muttered, shaking his head. He was smiling a bit, despite himself.


End file.
